


A Double Helix of FUCK THIS NOISE

by Omnicat



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Crack and Authorial Outrage, Force Ghost Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa Does Not Die, Naboo - Freeform, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Redemption Does Not Equal Death, Rey Nobody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:21:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22041724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnicat/pseuds/Omnicat
Summary: Naboo has this wonderful thing called DNA testing.(Look, sometimes you just have to accept the fact that the working title is the only thing you'll ever think of a fic as, and that, yes, youdowant your readers to know it.)
Relationships: Finn x Rose, Reylo
Comments: 37
Kudos: 158
Collections: TROS Reylo Fix-it Fics





	A Double Helix of FUCK THIS NOISE

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn’t even going to dignify this movie’s existence with a response, but the Fuck This Noise won out in the end. Because fuck _all_ this noise.
> 
> Don’t expect me to ever pay this much attention to TROS in my fics again, though. This was not an actual movie, it was some kind of fever dream wherein I watched a weird-looking rerun of some previous _Star Wars_ film or another. I do not acknowledge it as canon. I have enough trouble wrapping my head around it being real at all.

Ben and Rey are eating vibrantly colored, fruit-flavored nutrient jello from tiny cups in the Resistance medbay, their beds pushed together and intravenous drips still in their arms. Gradually their languid mental half real debate, half silly mental exercise tapers off. Do the current festivities still count as the same celebration that started the day they vanquished the Emperor, or is this the fourth or eight or however manyeth overlapping party in less than a week’s time? Who knows.

Not them. They’ve spent a lot of the past few days asleep, but every time they wake, the whole base is partying – perhaps still, perhaps again. Somebody waving something alcoholic around stumbles into the medbay on a surprisingly regular basis. Last time it was Poe, brandishing a bottle of Port In A Storm that still scorches their nostrils. He’d moved on from drunkenly complaining about Ben being there, Ben being taller than he remembered from their childhood nameday visits, Ben not looking sufficiently evil despot-ish, Rey liking Ben better than him, Leia paying more attention to work and Ben than to Poe and the party, and Ben in general, to complaining drunkenly that the spice running had been an undercover assignment, guys, unlike _some_ people, _he_ doesn’t set out to make his mother turn in her hypothetical grave, it’s not funny, let it go.

(The face-planting Poe does whenever he comes near the medbay now may or may not be Ben’s doing, and _if_ it is, it may or may not be intentional. He genuinely isn’t sure; it doesn’t take much to get him hammered in his current state, the medics are as distracted from their ‘don’t let the patients contract alcohol poisoning’ duty as everybody else is from theirs, and the revelers with the drink are very convincing.

"’Scuse me," he mumbles as he senses Poe stumble over a possibly imaginary tree root, and slurps up the last of the jello in his cup.)

Ben yawns. Rey grabs another cup of jello. His shirt is off, her hair is down, and music and laughter and joy (and the occasional orgasm) filter in from all sides. Life is good.

So of _course_ a terrible thought crosses his mind.

It’s that last bunch of orgasms that do it, Force help him. Damn winning sides and their victorious orgies. Speaking of orgies, and the inevitable new baby boom coming their way, though...

"Rey," Ben says, never one to _not_ plunge his hand straight into the bucket of gnawy-eels. "About your parents."

She groans. "Why."

"Sorry, I can’t let this one go."

"Didn’t we already have that conversation? Twice?" She doesn’t swallow before speaking, nor before stuffing another spoonful of jello into her mouth.

"Hear me out, please." He gathers his thoughts and decides that if he’s going to talk about the mating habits of the _Sithus Corpseonastickus_ anyway, he might as well go full seminar. "Emperor Palpatine was from a small planet called Naboo. It’s famous for its artists and artisans. My grandmother Padmé was born there too, as it happens. Her family, the Naberries, and the Palpatine family, had estates within hollering distance of each other."

Rey’s eyebrows rise. "Seriously?"

"I know."

"In a galaxy this size."

"Yeah, it’s wild. We could have been neighbors. But that’s not why I’m bringing this up. The Palpatine family – it’s not gone. The Emperor had many of his more direct relatives killed for one spurious reason or another, and the descendants have chosen to let the name die out, but the family tree that spawned him is still very much alive."

Rey’s face goes blank. "So I... I have a family there?"

"That’s the question," Ben says bluntly. Like ripping off a bacta patch.

It takes a moment or two for Rey to work through the combination of those statements. Then she throws her spoon and empty jello cup down onto the tray and thrusts not one but two accusing fingers in his face.

" _You!_ You _told_ me – when I was on your ship, you –"

"Yes, I said that, like an idiot, _because I’m an idiot_." He takes her hands in his. Any excuse to touch her is a good one. Even now, he relishes in running his thumbs along her knuckles. "The first time we talked about who your parents were, I told you what the Force told me. And while I don’t think the Force should have showed that kind of thing to me but not you – well."

The touching seems to be having the same effect on Rey as it has on him. She’s no longer making that scrunchy ‘I am going to shoot you so dead’ face, anyway.

"Well," she agrees stiffly. "The Force also showed your future to me instead of you. I was so young and my memory of that time is so unreliable, I probably would have rejected your vision and told myself it was my self-doubt talking, same as you would have dismissed mine as wishful thinking. I think the Force simply understood what we needed better than we did. Greater computational power, and all that."

Ben smiles. Rey looks unhappy. He frowns again. Right.

"The second time, though, I was repeating what Palpatine said. And in hindsight, I don’t think it was my finest judgement to believe that without verification."

Rey shrugs, frowning, uncomprehending. "So? That doesn’t change anything, he told me the same..."

She trails off. Ben feels an eyebrow and one corner of his mouth rise, helpless to stop it.

"Yes?"

"He certainly made some bold claims, didn’t he?" Rey finishes, her own mouth quirking in a grin too.

"Exactly."

"I..." Her face falls again already, and she closes her eyes. "Aw, shit, no. Luke confirmed it too. He wouldn’t lie and he wouldn’t be fooled."

Ben blinks. "...Uncle Luke _isn’t_ dead?"

"No, of course he is. I talked to his ghost."

"Are you sure? Really, really sure? Because I recently found out that every time in my entire life I thought I was talking to a Force Ghost, it was actually Palpatine in disguise," he says.

"Oh for the love of... well, at least _that_ would explain the bizarre claims ‘Luke’ made about Leia training as a Jedi and only going back to politics because of a prophetic vision. Palpatine _would_ think those were her priorities, wouldn’t he?"

Rey pinches the bridge of her nose, muttering "A thousand generations’ worth of Jedi history on that rock and I fall for ‘oh yeah, that totally belonged to Leia Don’t-Worry-I-Watched-My-Brother-Do-This-Once-We’ve-Got-This Organa’."

Ben makes an apologetic face.

Then there’s a sudden loud POP, and Luke’s ghost is standing by the foot of their beds, one translucent blue finger covered in translucent blue spit from the sound he just made his cheek make with it.

Ben tries to scatter his atoms in two directions at once and fails, clutching at his chest with one hand and at Rey with the other.

"I can confirm I have not had and will not have any conversations about anybody’s parentage after my death," Luke declares, wiping his stupid translucent blue finger on his stupid translucent blue robe. "I wouldn’t know about that anyway, I’m a Force expert, not a geneticist."

"Can you _not_ do that, my heart’s still one missed stair away from giving out as it is," Ben grinds out.

Luke’s face brightens. "Oh, Ben! Are you okay? We heard you calling, me and the gang were just on our way from helping Rey to come give you a boost out of that pit."

They stare.

Luke looks at them expectantly.

"What?" Rey says, as helpful as either of them can manage.

Belatedly, Luke looks around the medbay until something like comprehension dawns.

"Oh. Okay. Man, time is so weird on this side of the Force. When I just got to the other side, I ran into my dad while he was on his way to answer a cry for him you – " – he looks at Ben – "– made when you were five years old. And then suddenly, while he was explaining to me how that stuff works, his Force Comlink blew up with over _three thousand_ times you called him since?"

That was a question. One Luke definitely expects an answer to. And Rey too, from the looks of it.

Feeling attacked, Ben hunches his shoulders and stares at the lumps his feet make under the sheets. "Was it that many? I could’ve sworn mumblemumblemumble."

"Well, I hope you’re ready for that conversation once your grandfather finally gets here, because he’s beside himself."

"Great. No problem. Just what I always wanted," he mumbles, willing the conversation to change topics before the words start sinking in and the waterworks start.

"Don’t tell me we missed the baby, though," Luke ploughs on, as if reading his mind. "Your dad and your grandma and even _my_ grandma went ahead, but..."

Their heads shoot up in tandem: "Baby?!"

"Oops! Spoke too soon."

Luke makes a big coquettish production of what a silly mistake it was to let that slip; Rey and Ben barely notice. They’re too busy staring at each other and seeing their joint future flash by in each other’s eyes.

 _Just one?_ he thinks.

 _Oh, definitely not just one,_ she thinks back.

"But what the hell, can you really say you’re surprised, the way you’re going?" Luke quips.

Rey entwines her fingers with Ben’s. "Guess not."

There’s a lull in the conversation that’s only broken because Luke refuses to take the hint and go back to being dead, and the longer no-one says anything, the more excruciatingly awkward the silence gets.

"So that’s why it was always Palpatine answering instead of Grandfather? Post-mortem time dilation?" Ben asks, dragging his mind back on track with inhuman effort.

Rey’s thoughts take an entirely different turn. Something clicks in her head. Even second-hand, the sensation feels like getting smacked on the ear to Ben. All protective outrage, Rey bursts out: "Did you really come to my aid down there but not Ben’s? Could you lot _really_ not come through for him _any_ of the times he needed you?!"

"Hey, we’re trying, okay? Time out here is not a line, it’s..." Luke makes some incomprehensible gestures. "...a soup. I totally intended to haunt you, as you might remember, but, well, the best laid plans, huh?"

Ben bites back a reply that would get him haunted after all, no matter how long it took his uncle to get there. Rey may or may not be growling.

Luke cheerfully claps his hands together. "Now, was that all? I don’t know why you’re yelling at me in this next message, but if I don’t go now it could take a hundred years before I get there."

"No, that was all," Ben says.

"Okay, bye."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Luke fades. Rey and Ben take a deep, synchronized breath and turn to look at each other.

"Okay, so it was Palpatine, Palpatine, and Palpatine who told us I was his granddaughter," she summarizes. "We have no evidence but the word of the galaxy’s most prolific manipulator and deceiver."

" _Please_ let us go to Naboo to have a DNA test done on you," Ben says.

"Gladly."

The old no-longer-Palpatine aunt who gives them some blood to test Rey’s against has a medical kit set up by her front door just for that purpose. Most people who approach the Palpatine family with DNA requests do so hoping they _are_ related to the old tyrant somehow, she explains, and the family shows those people the door. When they refuse the door, they show them the droidekas hibernating beneath the flower beds. Sometimes, though, they get people like Rey, begging for assurance that their fears are unfounded. Those, they are glad to help.

"No match," the old lady’s resident medical assistance droid declares, and Rey crows with joy – "Yes! Oh, thank fuck, they were drunk nobodies! I can’t believe I’m happy about that now!" – and launches herself into Ben’s arms. They can do that again, no problem – the Force seemed to approve of the fruity nutrient jello – but as if on cue, he has his second horrible sex-related thought in as many weeks, and so he stops Rey when she makes to kiss him.

"Wait!" He shoots old auntie Palpatine an imploring look. "Test the two of us against each other too."

" _Now_ what’s wrong?" Rey asks.

"One time, my Dad got really, really drunk and told me a horrible story about my mother and uncle before they realized they were long-lost twins."

"Oof," the old lady says, cringing, while Rey’s expression cycles through more forms of horrified than Ben had known existed.

"Holy shit. Take that blood, droid, take it!"

Two pricked fingers later and the droid again declares: "No match."

Madam Not-Palpatine speaks for them all when she says: "Phew. How would you kids like some tea?"

(She makes the _best_ tea, as well as absolutely gorgeous laser etchings of her many tooka-cats. Rey almost feels guilty for how happy she is not to be related to her.

Almost)

They’re sitting on a low dock on Naberrie grounds, their bare feet dangling in the water of a gorgeous lake, when Rey’s comlink chimes.

She takes the call with a cheerful, "Hi!"

"Rey?" comes the agitated, decidedly not cheerful reply. "Where are you _now?_ "

"Finn? What’s wrong? Did something happen to the Resistance?"

"No. Actually, yes. You ran off again! Can you not stay put for five damn minutes so I can tell you what I’ve been trying to tell you all this time?"

"Oh. Sorry, I... what were you going to tell me?"

 _The Force-sensitivity thing?_ she wonders. _It’s so slight, I keep wondering if I should bring it up if he hasn’t even noticed it himself yet._

 _Oh, he’s noticed it alright,_ Ben thinks back. _He just can’t tell the difference between the Force and his own humanoid capacity for empathy. The Resistance has been shockingly negligent in his deprogramming. It’s like you all thought he just walked out of a lifetime of brainwashing completely unaffected or something._

"Where are you? I want to tell you this in person," Finn says.

"Naboo."

"Naboo?" Finn’s flusteredness kicks up a notch. "No, that’s too far."

"Just tell her already, Finn."

"Is that Rose?"

"Hi Rey!"

"Hi Rose!"

"Okay, fine. Rose and I are going to be parents."

Rey’s jaw drops.

"And Rose’s people have this tradition where expecting parents formally assign their children replacement parents in case something happens to them."

On the other end of the line, Rose bursts out laughing. "You make it sound awful!"

"Finn and Rose?" Rey asks Ben, as if he has any more idea than she does. (He’s been introduced to so many rebels so quickly, he’s not sure he’s even remembering the right face to go with the name. Is Rose the green-skinned, bug-eyed pilot with the tentacle hair, the huge former imperial turned outlandishly decked-out warlord, or the tiny one with the cute round face?) Rey turns her incredulity back towards the comlink. "I thought you two had decided against anything more than friendship! How did I not know about this?"

Finn struggles to find the right words. "I’m sorry, it’s just... we..."

"We didn’t want to jinx it," Rose finishes for him.

"Oh, wow. Guys, congratulations!"

"Thanks, Rey. Will you be our baby’s replacement mother?"

"Don’t call it that!"

"Of course I will."

"Great! Come back soon so we can celebrate, then."

"So we can get _married_ ," Rose corrects.

"We will," Rey promises, teary-eyed with happiness. "Finn Tico has a nice ring to it."

"Doesn’t it?" They can hear Finn preening from here. "So hurry it up, don’t make me wait for it."

Rey promises they’ll hurry, and she and Ben pull their feet up from the water to make their way back to where they left their speeder, shoes and socks in hand.

"You’re really okay with being Rey Nobody again?" Ben asks. He thinks he feels a little guilty for how blunt he’s been about the subject in the past. Trouble is, he feels _a lot_ guilty about a great many other things, so he’s not sure how to proceed here. She didn’t sound jealous or wistful about ‘Finn Tico’, but...

Rey shrugs. "Naming conventions are culture-specific. I’ve always been ‘just Rey’, the same way half of Niima Outpost was ‘just Mashra’, or ‘just Bobbajo’. Nothing strange about that. It was never about a name."

"And what about what it _was_ about?"

Her hand finds his and holds on tight.

"I don’t have a lot of clear, complete memories from that far back," she says quietly. She doesn’t look at him, but she doesn’t have to; their hearts and minds are even more closely intertwined than their fingers. "But I remember how they treated me. Or maybe I just remember how I _felt_ , living with them. I knew a few other children growing up on Jakku, and so many times I saw them with their parents and wondered ‘why can’t I have that?’. When my parents left me, I guess... without them around to remind me why not, I took the opportunity to come up with different reasons. With excuses. I replaced ‘I can’t have loving parents because my parents have no love for me in them’ with something less unfair. I told myself lies for years and years because on some level, I always refused to accept that I deserved the real thing."

"You didn’t," he urges at once. It makes her smile.

"No. Part of me doesn’t agree with that even now, but another part of me always knew. That’s why the fantasies were so tempting. What I _deserved_ were parents who disappeared under mysterious circumstances, through no fault of their own, to protect me from unknown enemies. Parents who sacrificed their lives for me because I was important and they cared for me. Exactly like Palpatine described them. But I never had parents like that, even when I had parents at all. Even despite how terribly I missed them... no, how terribly I missed what I’d always hoped they _would_ be if I could just figure out what was wrong with our family - with _me_ \- and fix it, how robbed I felt of the naive hope that everything would be alright someday... despite all that, my life was better after they left than before. And that’s saying something, because my life after was shit. The fairytale of the hidden princess was always too good to be true."

"I’m sorry," he whispers.

"Don’t be."

Rey takes a deep breath and takes in his face. The taut lines of her pain melt away, leaving behind only love and a distant, wistful sort of sorrow.

"In the end, I think I prefer the insignificant drunks over the grand haunted legacy. I always thought the latter would be nicer, but that was before I got it. The reality did not live up to the expectation." She squeezes his hand. "Should’ve seen it coming the moment I started getting to know your family. It didn’t make me any happier than it made you."

Ben isn’t sure he can wholeheartedly say the same quite yet – isn’t sure that he wouldn’t still trade places with her in a heartbeat, that being insignificant and unloved wouldn’t have solved all his problems. Maybe that feeling will fade if – when – it gets easier to acknowledge how much he loves his family, and how much they love him, despite everything they all did to and failed to do for each other.

But that’s not the thought that burrows furtively into the back of his mind. Instead, what sprouts and takes root is: _I wonder how she’d feel about being Rey Solo._

That, and ‘Ben who? Oh, just Rey’s husband’ sounds like a perfect middle ground to him. Uncle Lando always did say weddings are contagious...

**Author's Note:**

> Comments on older fics will ALWAYS remain welcome. :)


End file.
